


A Trace Of Innocence On The Pillow Case

by hharrytomlinson



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 19-Year-Old Louis, Anal Fisting, Bottom Louis, Coming Untouched, Dominant Harry, Double Anal Penetration, Double Penetration in One Hole, Dubious Consent, Fisting, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Older Harry, Older Zayn, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Submissive Louis, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Harry, Top Zayn, Twink Louis, but you could argue hes just influenced by harry ?, like he consents ????, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 18:28:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2662040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hharrytomlinson/pseuds/hharrytomlinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis' too submissive and Harry's just the opposite.</p>
<p>Or the one where Louis sort of agrees to a threesome with his boyfriend and his boyfriend's best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Trace Of Innocence On The Pillow Case

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted this to be longer but ahh I failed. I don't regularly write bottom Louis so this is ?? new??  
> Title lazily taken from No Control  
> Description terribly written

Louis knows with the life of him that it’s not safe being with Harry – that they should part their separate ways. Opposites attract, they attract _so_ much that it hurts. Metaphorically, and literally.

Like the times Harry demands Louis onto his knees and doesn’t tell him to stop until he knows Louis physically can’t go on sucking him off much longer. And Louis does it, will do anything to please Harry.

Harry gets a bit power hungry unintentionally at times, reveling in it. Louis knows he doesn’t mean bad and is too timid to stop him from touching him in bed two hours before they have to get up in the morning, off to uni for Louis and work for Harry. It’s not healthy in the slightest bit, and Louis can’t tell his professor that he’s a bit off in the morning because his boyfriend was making him come three consecutive times in a row, relentless until Louis’ penis was _so_ sore and he was in tears, burying his face into Harry’s chest and begging him to stop.

But when Harry tells Louis to _shut up_ and _take it_ , Louis does. He has no fight, never really has, and just wants to please Harry, even if Harry’s not getting off from it.

Louis’ just thankful that for the most part Harry has _boundaries_ , like he’s not going to make Louis parade around in a diaper and wee in it. He might have him in the tightest boxers found in the young teen boys department and tell him he can’t wear anything else until he’s absolutely ruined them, but Louis doesn’t _mind_. It helps distract him from important exams coming up when he’s coming in his drawers and showing Harry the dark spots that’ve seeped through the same pair of boxers that outline his bum so firmly and the bulge in his front.

Louis _thinks_ Harry has boundaries – strict, defined boundaries – until he proposes a threesome. It’s more of demand when he’s a hand around Louis’ cock, going slower than normal upon waiting for Louis’ response. Louis can’t say no – not like this, not ever, and agrees with a breathy whimper and a buck of his hips, only to be pinned down to Harry’s mattress and told to sit still.

Louis can’t say no, even though he’s confused as to why Harry’s so okay with someone else fucking his boyfriend. The only plausible solution is that _Harry_ wants to fuck someone else, but that doesn’t make much sense when he explains that the guy, Zayn, went to uni with him and has been dying to meet Louis since hearing all about him. Naturally, Louis blushes and agrees further, feeling a bit better that Zayn and Harry were never a thing and it’s just Harry’s way of showing off his boyfriend.

And Louis _loves_ the word boyfriend, so much that he calls Harry it sometimes just because it feels right on his tongue. Not only that, but he has an _older_ , _hot_ boyfriend, who treats him well and is great in bed and sweet, and it’s all he could ask for, really. Their personalities blend so well that Louis refuses to believe otherwise and let anything ruin their chemistry, like his own hesitance towards a threesome because he’s only nineteen and has never done _that_ before.

When Zayn comes over on Friday, Louis’ doing coursework on the couch and blushes when Zayn’s eyes trail over his sitting form and holds out his hand for Louis to take. Louis’ hand is dainty in comparison to Zayn’s, who has rings on his fingers and tattoos coming up his arms, similar to Harry’s. Louis doesn’t have any tattoos, doesn’t think he wants them, but thinks that if they make him look half as hot as Zayn it’s worth a shot.

Harry’s making dinner in the kitchen and Zayn goes in there to talk to him briefly, before he’s in the arm chair in the living room and watching Louis write notes on his reading due Monday. Louis has a pen between his teeth and tries to pay attention to Thoreau and his long rants about nature. He needs to pay attention for his upcoming test and – Zayn’s watching him, is the problem. Louis’ too nervous to scribble anything down that’s coherent, his hand near shaking. Too scared to look up and talk to Zayn and too scared to go into the other room, purposely ignoring him, Louis does the first, smiling with his hands capping his pen.

“I, um, y-you’re Zayn.” He stutters, never having given a proper introduction. Louis needs saving from the awkward encounter urgently and Harry swoops in much to Louis’ relief, smiling at Zayn and seating himself beside Louis on the couch.

Louis’ in Harry’s lap before he realizes and Zayn’s watching closely to how small Louis looks against Harry’s broad shoulders and how his legs don’t touch the ground when they’re resting over Harry’s long ones. He’s small – petite – and it’s enticing.

“How long ‘ve you two been together again?” Zayn asks to break the silence. Louis begins to relax in Harry’s lap and plays with his fingers that’re entwined in front of his stomach, holding Louis’ body against him.

“It’s been about six months, yeah, Lou?” Harry curves his head to glance at the side profile of Louis’ face.

“Yeah.” Louis whispers, confirming and barely nodding his head because he feels like there’s a spotlight on him, one that’s shining too bright and too hot, making him uncomfortable.

“And you’re already all moved in together? Cozy.” Zayn remarks, as to not make any accusation, like they moved in too soon.

“We’re not, actually. Louis has a dorm closer to the uni a few blocks away, but I drive him most mornings.”

Louis’ still uncomfortable, though, and shifts, feeling Harry tighten his grip on him, as to say _sit still_ and Louis listens. He always does.

“How old are you, Louis?”

It seems as though Harry’s told Zayn nothing – either that or he’s just asking questions to make Louis uncomfortable – and Louis hates that Harry’s not going to answer this one for him.

“Nineteen.” Louis’ quiet and not looking up from his lap, from Harry’s hands when he answers.

“Look at Zayn, Louis.” Harry demands softly into Louis’ ear. Zayn definitely heard, but that doesn’t seem to matter.

So Louis looks up and stutters uncomfortably, “I-I’m nineteen.”

Zayn smirks like he’s achieved something and doesn’t say much else, discussing briefly to Harry about how he has an art show coming up and Louis and him should tag alone. Harry chuckles, murmuring, “We’ll see how the night goes.” and that’s the first mention of tonight’s plans.

The second is at the dinner table. It shouldn’t be, because they’re eating and Louis wants to focus on cutting his steak, not Harry running his hand up his right thigh while he’s trying to eat. But then there’s another hand on him, a hand on his left thigh as well, and there’s suddenly two hands moving up his leg and rubbing him at different paces. It’s something that he’s finding hard to ignore.

Louis’ sitting in between Harry and Zayn who’re animatedly chatting about a football match coming up. Louis should be joining in – he likes – he _knows_ football – but he’s uncomfortable and awful at pretending like Zayn’s hand isn’t rubbing him through his tight red skinnies, the ones that show his bum off terribly well.

Harry must be aware of Zayn’s actions as well, for he backs his hand away and moves it down to rub the middle of Louis’ leg instead, doing so softly until he knows Zayn has Louis’ cock out and is pumping him slowly.

Louis doesn’t get to come. Zayn’s phone rings when he’s panting and out of breath and Harry and Zayn are only smirking slightly, otherwise ignoring what’s going on under the table.

Louis’ hard and sticking out of his jeans and when Zayn’s hand leaves, so does Harry’s.

“Want your cock back in your pants.” It’s not a suggestion, it’s a demand and Louis gasps for a breath of air at the words.

“B-But, it, it hurts.”

Harry laughs, gets up from his chair, and bends over to Louis’ ear, kissing him softly, before murmuring, “Make sure it’s the most uncomfortable you’ve ever experienced.”

Louis does. He’s wet from pre-come and rock hard, but angles his cock awkwardly back into his jeans. When Harry washes the dishes, Louis looks down to notice that the jeans outline his penis perfectly and anyone can see how blatant it is, straining against the tight fabric. It hurts to even look at and Louis’ unsure of how much more he can take.

It’s barely begun.

Louis’ breathing is off the charts when he’s seated on Harry’s lap twenty minutes later and on the couch with Zayn in his previous spot. Except this time, Harry’s fingers are ghostly tracing Louis’ erection through his jeans and Louis’ eyes are constantly squinting shut. He tries to disregard what’s going on with equanimity, breathing laggardly and holding onto the side of Harry’s thighs for security.

Everyone’s paying attention yet pretending not to. Zayn and Harry notice how tense Louis is and how _hard_ he is, his cock so noticeably swollen because red pants hide nothing.

Eventually, Louis can’t help but let out a noise of lamentation, his head falling back against Harry’s shoulder and he tries to put up a façade of how he’s really feeling, worried that he’s being too blunt and Zayn’s going to go home. The opposite happens, actually.

Harry carries Louis off the couch and into Zayn’s lap, who he’s suddenly straddling with fogged eyes from the feeling in his stomach. He needs to come.

Zayn notices this and hushes Louis’ small moans and squeals when he tries to unbutton his jeans. Louis’ breathing out a sigh of overexcited relief when his cock is taken out from the terribly uncomfortable position it was in, Zayn clearly a lot less apathetic towards his penis and needs than Harry, who’d been paying not nearly enough attention to him.

Louis rocks his hips forward into Zayn’s hand – Zayn’s hand that’s making it so he’s so close to coming – wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing the side of his jaw like he likes to do to Harry. Except this time Harry’s watching when Zayn lifts Louis’ shirt over his cock and Louis’ coming all over his soft tummy.

Louis’ too hazy to make sense of the murmurs between Harry and Louis. The _“I’m going to go prep him.”_ from Harry, and _“Make him come a few more times.”_ from Zayn. It should make sense – it’s obvious – but Louis’ tired, exhausted even.

Louis’ lithe body fits delicately into Harry’s arms again when he’s transported into Harry’s room, mostly known as their room. Harry works out practically daily and it shows on his arms, so much so that when Louis tries to rest his head against Harry’s bicep it feels strong and secure.

Louis’ jeans aren’t even on right and there’s come on his stomach when he’s set to lay on the bed. His red pants are pulled down, his boxers coming with them, and Harry makes a move to find a baby wipe to clear the come off his stomach. Too sensitive when Harry dabs the wipe on the head of his penis, Louis jolts a bit and tries to twist away, because the wipe’s cold and he practically just came, but Harry tells him to sit still for the thousandth time ever.

“We’re not nearly done yet, love.” Harry explains and Louis’ unsure of what more can happen – how much more he can take for the night when he’s already exhausted and feeling cantankerous from even the thought of getting hard again.

“No.” Louis shakes his head tiredly, but still bucks into Harry’s hand when given the opportunity of having it around him. Harry’s always been adroit with his hands and it feels so good that Louis’ getting hard again, barely having the chance to soften.

The creaking of the night table’s top drawer opening brings Louis back to his senses. They keep the lube in the top drawer and condoms in the second. Louis listens closely for the second drawer’s opening, but there’s nothing, only the noise of Harry opening the cap of the bottle of lube and wiping it around Louis’ rim.

“Legs up, darling.” Harry says softly, so soft that Louis listens and points his knees towards the ceiling. His legs are wide apart, leaving himself bare and open for Harry to explore.

The feeling Louis experiences when Harry kisses the inside of his thigh and plunges two fingers in him at once is ineffable. Harry has velvety red lips on him and when Louis looks down, he nearly melts. There’s nothing ever mundane about Harry kissing him anywhere, let alone his thighs that Harry constantly groans about the thickness of.

Louis isn’t processing why Harry says, “Gonna open you up so much, Lou.” He’s not thinking about Zayn in the other room when three fingers are stretching him wide and then four. Harry seems to be wanting Louis as opened as possible – which makes sense, since he’s probably going to be fucked – but it’s unnecessary for Harry to have his whole hand up there. As thick as his cock may be, it’s definitely not the size of a fist.

Harry’s hands are so big that when he’s a whole fist up Louis he can reach Louis’ prostate, his fingers long and he has five of them on each hand. Harry has one hand pleasuring Louis in his bum and the other holding his leg far apart from the other. His mouth is still just kissing Louis’ thigh softly, and it’s not nearly enough for Louis who’s leaking pre-come and begging for Harry to stop because he’s going to come any second now.

“Please, please, please,” Louis chants like a sermon in church – which isn’t something to be thinking about when he has someone of the same sex making him come, or is coming at all – but there’s no time to think when there’s a buzzing in his belly and fingers massaging his prostate.

When Louis comes, Harry doesn’t stop. If anything, he thrusts his hand in and out of Louis faster to stretch him out further. He hasn’t done this before because there was never a purpose and Louis doesn’t know what’s changed now.

Louis’ somewhere between his third and fourth orgasm of the night, a bit drunk from the wine during dinner and sex, with Harry still kissing his thigh and making sure he’s thoroughly stretched, when Zayn comes into the bedroom and hovers over Louis, kissing from his cheek and to his mouth.

Louis’ being moved after coming four times, crying because he’s so sensitive and Harry can’t be fragile enough with pulling away and out of him.

He hears Zayn utter, “Holy crap.” when he catches sight of how opened up he is, and feels Harry rest on the bed beside him, before Zayn’s urging him to straddle Harry and Harry’s getting his jeans down his legs.

Thoroughly manhandled like he’s disparage, done so carelessly, Louis’ back is supported against Zayn’s chest whilst Harry sits up. Louis’ body is lifted and Harry’s so suddenly inside of him that his body tries to jut forward and fall against Harry’s chest, but Zayn keeps him supported.

Harry and Zayn are both facing Louis and it takes Louis a bit to realize that Zayn doesn’t have a shirt on, and then that he’s also no pants or trousers. He’s completely naked and so is Harry and Louis and he’s not making a move to put his cock anywhere, so Louis’ finding the situation abstruse.

It’s when Harry holds onto Louis’ waist and urges him forwards, cock sliding out of him by default, that Zayn points his cock forward and Louis feels like he’s being impaled. He’s exhausted and has two men inside of him – older men, at that – and if it weren’t for Harry’s thorough opening him up he’d be in actual pain, or for the half bottle of lube that it felt like he’d used.

When Louis’ set back down and is filled as much as he can be with both Zayn and Harry, they both take it upon themselves to hold onto to him where they see fit. Zayn has two hands around Louis’ waist and Harry only has one, the other rubbing Louis’ thigh yet not making it to his cock which is yearning to be touched. In complete control of Zayn and Harry’s, Louis’ body is bouncing up and down until his prostate is being hit twice the amount of normal and it feels thoroughly prodded and abused for the night.

When Zayn tells Louis to come from behind him, Louis rests his head into Harry’s chest, shaking his head because he _can’t_. He’s come completely untouched three times already and Zayn and Harry are still refusing to touch him where he so badly needs it most.

Louis does all he can and begs for Harry, who holds all the cards, to touch him.

“ _Please_ , Harry, I’ll do anything – I can – I’ll,” Louis tries to think of something before realizing that there’s not much else he can do beside moving his hips faster, because nothing else gets better than this on Zayn and Harry’s end. They’re both inside him at the same time and it should be enough for Louis to be touched, but it’s obvious he’s not going to be.

Harry hushes Louis, interrupting his pleads and rubs his thigh lighter, like he’s tickling him with a feather.

And Louis comes moments later, finding a burning to be in his bum. Zayn and Harry come as well and it’s against each other, which is when Louis realizes that they’re not wearing condoms when they pull out and he can feel come dripping out of him, but doesn’t care much because Harry’s clean and had probably made sure Zayn was as well. He’s too tired to think about it much, anyway.

Zayn doesn’t stay long and kisses Louis on the lips before heading out, telling Harry that he’ll see him later. Louis’ too tired to move or think with his cheek pressed to Harry’s tattooed chest and his bum aching. Somehow, his cock hurts even more and he feels rancor towards the idea of even trying to move himself.

Harry kisses Louis’ head, asking, “Are you okay, babe?” with all sincerity.

Louis’ too exhausted to respond and hugs himself closer to Harry, murmuring something incoherent, before falling asleep to the sound of his own pants and willingness to please.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://hharrytomlinson.tumblr.com)


End file.
